Formula for Murder Read online

  “I’ve got to run. I’ll commiserate later. Could you round up Nick and fill him in on the male necessities? Have him call me if he has any questions.”

  “Jeesh, I sure love complaining to you. Leaves something to be desired,” Dennis shouted to her fleeing back.

  Chapter 8

  An ‘i’ dotted above the stem is often found among people who are precise and in control, but when a gun is pointed at you, can you ask the bearer to stop and write a note to see?

  “Handwriting Analysis” by P. Scott Hollander

  The daintily wrapped shrimp didn’t have a chance as Kat zeroed in with cobra-like efficiency and popped it into her mouth. She wove her way through the crowds, grateful for the escort of the graceful and urbane Nick. Dennis had joined them earlier, choosing a grouping of those you know, rather than those you don’t.

  She sighed, “I guess we should mingle.”

  “If I’ve got to mingle than I’ll do it by the hors d’oeuvres,” Dennis said in an exaggeratedly offended voice. Kat knew that’s where he’d been heading all along. Food was always his priority.

  The donors were there in force, come to celebrate another successful fundraising event. She reveled in the finery, in the black and white and gold of this year’s theme reflected in the rosy glow of countless candelabras. It lifted her spirits.

  Jewels and sequins abounded as participants vied with the decorations for attention. Nick reminisced with friends from his days on campus. They all converged on the food table frequently, to compare notes, share a drink or a laugh, and then went back to quiet moments with friends and acquaintances. It was difficult in this sparkling setting to believe murder occurred a few days before. Kat speculated on the patrons present and their possible connection to Charlie’s demise. It was impossible to imagine any of them involved.

  She chatted with the dean’s mother, Thelma, her sedate name and body hiding an invigorating mind. Thelma spoke with animation; her gnarled fingers, speckled with age and circled with diamonds, attempted to keep pace with her enthusiastic voice. She’d attended the university herself, many years before, and reminisced about the golden days.

  The glitter, the gold-draped tables, the black and white china and the sparkling crystal impressed Nick. Flowers adorned every corner and bloomed in centerpieces. Rubies and diamonds and dazzling clothes adorned the women. Nick preferred the classic simplicity of Kat’s dress; no sequins, no bangles, just fine lines that complimented her figure, and a little lace inset to hint at her breasts. His eyes reflected his appreciation as she approached.

  She smiled shyly in response. “I see you managed to entertain dozens of people as you made your rounds.”

  “Yeah, I remembered a few, met a few.”

  “Oh, there’s Gerald with Abner. Should we grill them?

  “Probably not appropriate behavior at a formal function. Could get bloody with your interrogation techniques. Quick, dance with me before you embarrass us!”

  They fit perfectly as they danced and when her eyes scanned the crowd with that speculative twinkle he gently touched her cheek to bring them back to him. “Do I need to become a suspect to gain your attention?”

  Kat toyed with him for a moment. “Well, you were late arriving in front of Main Hall. You could have been delayed by murder I suppose.”

  “Kat, you wound me! You really couldn’t believe that of me.” He hesitated, waiting for her response. “Could you?”

  “I don’t really know you.”

  Deciding she was just teasing, he settled back to the dance, softly brushing cheek-to-cheek, and whispered in her ear, “We could change that.”

  Feeling safe amidst the crowd, she asked, “What did you have in mind?”

  Pulling her a little closer he answered, “What I have in my mind right now better stay there. Maybe it’s safer to go grill Gerald and Abner. Where’d they go?”

  Happy to have an affect on him, but just as happy not to pursue it at the moment, Kat spied Gerald and twirled out of Nick’s arms.

  “Great, I love grilling people!”

  Nick wasn’t quite so eager to interrogate the learned professors. “Whoa, do you really think Gerald or Abner is the killer?”

  “I know Gerald isn’t. But he found the body. I thought he could tell us something.”

  “And how do you know he isn’t the killer?”

  “He’s a good friend!”

  “And that makes him innocent?”

  “I just know he wouldn’t do it.” Kat twirled a strand of hair between her fingertips, not so much nervous as anxious to support her friend. “His writing is well-balanced. His ‘t-bar’ points upward; he dots his ‘i’s’ directly above the stem. He is therefore, highly moral.”

  “He was there that night wasn’t he?”

  “Well, yes,” she admitted as she delicately plucked a puff pastry off one of the trays offered by students. “But that doesn’t make him guilty. I was there, too. I’m not guilty.”

  “Seeing the way you and Burrows spark off each other I suspect he more than likely didn’t want to hear the grief you’d dole out if he even looked at one of your friends for murder.”

  “Good point. So how do we clear Gerald?” she whispered as another pastry tray hovered nearby in the hands of a student with purple spiked hair. She snatched an hors d’oeuvre for each of them and looked up at him imploringly as she held out her bribe.

  “You don’t ask much do you? It would be easier to nab the killer and clear Gerald that way.”

  “So what are we waiting for? Let’s go chat with Gerald and see what he knows.”

  She licked her fingers daintily, and wiped them on the napkin she swiped from another passing waiter, then wove her fingers between Nicks and tugged forward. He just grinned and followed, realizing he’d convinced her of nothing and they were back where they started—off to interrogate Gerald and Abner. As he tagged along he tried to score at least one point. “O.K. Kat, but remember, this is not an inquisition, and this is a polite, formal gathering of great significance to those who sign our paychecks. Try discreet?”

  Kat didn’t honor that with a response but smiled gently at Gerald. She knew he hated to attend these affairs, but participated in his role with the campaign committee. He wasn’t a fundraiser, but he knew lots of folks, alumni as well as those in local industry, and his contacts were prized.

  “You look lovely tonight,” Gerald said, bestowing a benevolent smile. He added, “What progress is there on finding Charlie’s killer?”

  Nick raised an eyebrow and realized that this wasn’t the first time others expected Kat to know just about everything. He couldn’t resist asking why. Gerald explained that Burrows was an old family friend of hers. Katharine’s father had served on the police force for many years before retiring, so she supposedly had connections.

  Shocked, Nick stared at Kat. “That’s friendship you two share? Could have fooled me.”

  With a glass of wine in her hand, Kat laughed and turned back to Gerald. “Nope. We don’t know a thing. That’s why we came to check with you.”

  Nick glanced around, and wondered if anyone else noticed Kat’s ability to have food and drink materialize wherever she stood. No one else paid attention so he focused on the matter at hand. Concentration of any kind was proving difficult. Though he felt like he was on the edge of a precipice whenever Kat was around, he enjoyed that sharpening of his senses. He was either losing it, or in love. It was time to regroup, if she ever gave him the chance.

  Gerald described his actions the evening of the murder. He really hadn’t seen or heard anything out of the ordinary as far as he could remember, and that’s what he’d told the police. Yes, he’d found the body. The lights were still on in the lab when he came round to lock up so he peeked in to see who was still at work. Charlie didn’t often use the big lab for his own experiments.

  At first Gerald hadn’t seen anyone, he recalled. Then he noticed the shards of broken test tubes and beakers. A step further inside bro
ught him in sight of Charlie’s body. He’d checked for signs of life and then urged Kat to call the police.

  Kat confirmed, “Yes, he was only in there a second, and I saw Charlie alive when I headed upstairs. He stood guard and waited for the police. They let him finish his rounds to lock up; then escorted him to his office where he was asked to stay in case they had more questions later.

  Discouraged, Kat turned to scan the crowd for Abner, who seemed to vanish as soon as they came across Gerald. She didn’t know if it was deliberate, but she imagined it would be uncomfortable, at the least, to be suspected of murder. Until she gathered more information about Charlie’s work, and talked with Louise, there wasn’t much more to ask Abner anyway.

  She waited till Nick and Gerald finished chatting about the latest extravagances in tuxedos and then reminded Nick of their appointment with Louise the following morning.

  “What time is that?”

  She cringed slightly, “Well, I had to make it early.”

  The cringe accompanied by the crinkled smile was a dead giveaway and he dreaded to ask, “How early?”

  “About 7:30?”

  “You do realize it’s midnight? Maybe you better snap your fingers or pull on your ear or whatever you do to have a tray of drinks materialize because I think I need one to calm me down. Either that or I need pep pills to help me keep up with you.”

  Gerald laughed and excused himself. Having seen Katharine in action before, he was not surprised at her effect, but he wanted to get out of the crossfire quickly.

  Kat ignored Nick’s complaint and zeroed in on the one point, “What do you mean materialize? I merely take advantage as the waiters walk by. It’s all in where you stand.”

  “How come I never see them?”

  “Maybe you’re not looking in the right direction.”

  Nick arched his brow as he realized she was right. He’d been staring at her most of the time. He didn’t know whether to shake his head in disbelief or just go along for the ride, but he knew one thing, keeping up with Kat could become a full-time job.

  Kat stood in front of Louise’s desk and yawned with a discreetly placed hand over her mouth as she awaited the woman’s return from the inner room and for Nick to arrive. She turned and saw him watching her from the doorway. He yawned, too, but didn’t hesitate to comment. “Next time I’m this tired I want it to be because I had an unforgettable night!”

  Not sure how to handle that incendiary statement, she was glad Louise was within hearing, forestalling a response. Was that a come-on? No time to explore it now. Louise bustled in, juggling folders. She wore her usual sour look—the look that Kat knew took years to fine-tune. She understood Louise needed an outer core against all the power-seeking sycophants and that now it was just part of her appearance; her true motherly nature never changed.

  Louise shrieked with delight as Nick strolled in. She plopped the folders onto the desk as he gave her a bear hug. Kat’s murmur of surprise went unnoticed.

  “And why haven’t you been back to see me?”

  “Louise, they had me on my deathbed or I would have been here. How are you, beautiful?”

  The slender woman straightened out of the embrace, fluffed her tightly curled gray hair, and grimaced. “Go on with ya.”

  Kat couldn’t believe it. The completely literate well-bred woman, acting speechless and flustered before her eyes.

  Louise and Nick reminisced about the “good old days” when Nick was a student and was in to see the president on more than one occasion.

  “Nick kept coming forward with off-the-wall ideas for one project or another. None were simple; some required the power of the president,” Louise said in an aside to Kat. “Sometimes only the president could dissuade him.”

  When Louise asked, “What do you two want with me anyway?” Kat took over the questioning. Nick still seemed preoccupied with old home week. “We need information, Louise. Where else would we come?”

  Louise sat down at her desk and got her efficient look back in place. A backdrop of all the tomes and paraphernalia of the presidential office confirmed her authority. Kat knew Louise truly did have power. The question was, would she reveal any of her secrets to help with the investigation?

  “You know I can’t repeat most of what I know. Never did, never would.”

  “That’s O.K. We just need background information.”

  Nick questioned, “What really happened with the vandalism of the lab a year and a half ago? Was there something that didn’t get to the press?”

  Louise suppressed an unladylike snort. “You must mean the rumors of the stolen enzyme vial. I’ll tell you the truth right now. Nothing was ever proven. And no fingers were ever pointed at anyone in particular.” She looked up between her lashes. “Do you think that has something to do with Charlie? It wasn’t even his lab that was involved.”

  Nick waffled a little, avoiding a direct answer. “We’re not sure. Just trying to find links to almost anything right now. Could the professor involved have suspected Charlie of stealing the vial?”

  Louise glanced around as if to see if anyone was listening, even though they were the only ones in the room. She eyed Nick speculatively and finally decided it could do no harm to reveal what she heard. She told them that, yes, Professor Billings did suggest they investigate Charlie but the committee dismissed it immediately. There were really no grounds, no evidence that would support accusing Charlie considering the embarrassment or potential harm if he was found innocent.

  Kat pondered where she could find a sample of Billings’ handwriting while Nick inquired, “Do you have Billings current location?”

  Louise rifled through the folder she’d brought in earlier and handed a sheet to Kat. “Here you go. I knew you’d be asking.” The sample showed the logical strokes for an inquisitive thinker.

  She hunted further and answered Nick. “He went over to Cummings State to fill in for someone on sabbatical. Don’t know where he went from there. His student intern might know. He probably lost more than anyone in the trashing. He went to the University of Illinois.”

  She supplied them with his name and then folding her spindly arms over her even scrawnier chest, said, “But if you’re looking for suspects for Charlie’s murder you should try closer to home.”

  Chapter 9

  Irregular handwriting gives an ambiguous message but it can mean instability. It also can mean creativity and spontaneity. Regular handwriting at least gives the message of self-control.

  “Handwriting, An Analysis Through Its Symbolism” by Rudolph Hearns

  Nick and Kat plopped back down in their chairs simultaneously. Was the answer right here and no one thought to ask Louise? That would be too easy. Nick regained his speech first.

  “Louise, you’ve been holding out on us. Do you know something?”

  “Now, Nick, this is only my opinion. The one that hated Charlie the most was that Maria Alvarez, though God knows she doesn’t look like she could kill anything these days.”

  “What do you mean?” Kat perked up in her chair. Maybe they were looking in the wrong direction.

  “She had a nervous breakdown a couple of months ago. She’s on leave now but who knows what’s going to happen. She’s a physical wreck. Couldn’t blow a leaf over now, not that she was much to begin with.”

  Nick hadn’t ever met Maria, so Louise explained. “If one considered her wiry before, she’s now lost her wire.”

  Kat interrupted. “That was sure kept hush-hush. I haven’t heard a thing. What caused it?”

  Though seldom one to gossip, once started, Louise was like a wound-up rubber band let loose. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she continued. “They’re not saying, but I think she went off the deep end when Charlie turned down that last intern she wanted placed in the chem labs.”

  Kat looked at her excitedly but before she could question more, Louise continued.

  “Now that’s just what I think, you understand. You can’t repeat a word of it. But
all the paperwork comes through here one way or the other and I saw how much she put into those grant proposals. She was devastated every time Charlie turned one down.”

  She shuffled her folders nervously, then continued. “Others took on a few interns, but never Charlie, and without him, the rest of the department was able to stay away from it too. She was crushed one day, furious the next.”

  “And you think she’d kill for that?” Nick was incredulous.

  Kat asked for more details and a handwriting sample, hoping to find some irregularities. Louise respecting Kat’s abilities and knowing she would keep it confidential, found a recent letter. The signs of instability were there, but they could also reveal a creative streak. Not enough to draw conclusions, but they decided Maria deserved another look.

  Further questions to Louise were forestalled.

  “Talk to her chairman. I don’t have enough facts. And you know I don’t gossip!”

  Nick and Louise swapped the latest news from President Ludlow before they left. The president had complained to Nick he hated being absent during the murder investigation. He also relayed how strongly he felt the symposium was a breakthrough in international relations on the educational front. Nick knew his being named chairman was the biggest honor of his career, but the man was deeply concerned about the impact of the murder on his faculty and students and wanted it solved soon.

  After thanking Louise profusely, Kat and Nick strolled back to their offices, casually conversing, enjoying the interlude together. Kat found a growing sense of joy in his company, and wondered if he felt it, too. She didn’t want to read anything too personal into their time together, yet. His eyes smiled at her with more intensity than one would expect for a colleague, she thought. Kat decided she wasn’t ready to explore further and said, “What do you think of Simon Santora?”

  “What do I think of him as a person? A professor? An administrator? Or as a murderer?”